Once again you fill the beloved valley
With a quiet, misty glow,
And in the end you also manage to release
My soul completely.
Over my realm you spread
Your soothing glance,
Like the gentle eyes of the beloved
Watching over my fate.
The fact that you are sufficiently agile to know
This heart on fire
Stops my soul, which, like a ghost
Is unable to cross the river,
When on a bleak winter's night
It swells up with death
And at the time of the majesty of spring life
It swells the buds.
Blessed is anyone who, avoiding the world,
Locks themselves away without hatred
And holds a man to their bosom
And with him enjoys
That which, unknown to humans
Or even disdained by them,
Through the labyrinth of the breast
Paces around during the night.

This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has
been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has
never had any government or institutional funding, so if you
found
the information here useful, please consider making a
donation.
Your help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

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